


Everything Old

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon and illya don't often have the chance to be tourists in their own city.  Written for Picfor1000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Old

 

Napoleon tossed the travel magazine down onto the table. Its landing made enough noise that his partner looked up and sighed.

“What’s wrong, Napoleon?” Illya looked up from the report he’d been proofing. “The Yankees fail you again?”

“How long have you lived here? That’s baseball and it’s football season now.” He gestured to the offending publication. “The article I was just reading, the author insists that most people don’t even know what’s in their backyard and should spend more time in their own city than traveling.”

“I would agree.” Illya took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Do you really think that most of the people living in New York have been to all its local landmarks?”

“Of course. What New Yorker hasn’t been to Times Square or Central Park?”

“Probably the same number of Soviets who have not been to the Red Square or St. Peter’s Cathedral. When you live some place, you don’t think like a tourist. You become mired in your day-to-day activities. And, really, do we have a home? We are men of the world.” He tapped the papers in front of him with his black rimmed glasses. “Speaking of such, did you set fire to the car in Monaco and steal the bus in Rome or the other way around?”

“I didn’t steal that bus. I… merely borrowed it and then returned it when I was finished.” Napoleon rubbed his forehead.

“Missing a tire, most of its windows and its gears stripped.”

“Sue me. I hadn’t driven a stick shift in a while. Everyone on board had a good time, though.”

“I shall neglect to mention that aspect of our assignment to Mr. Waverly, unless you think I should. The rest home did drop all the charges against you… eventually.” Illya didn’t bother to hide his smile.

“No, by all means…” Napoleon stood and stretched his back. “You’ve seen everything here, though, haven’t you?”

“The museums and the libraries. Everything else will come in time. If we live long enough. Are you going to help me finish this?”

“But The Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, those things?”

Illya shrugged and returned the glasses to his nose. “All I want right now is to finish this report and go home before Mr. Waverly realizes I’m still here and sends me out on another assignment.”

                                                            *****

That’s how it started – this gem of an idea. The hardest part for Napoleon was to narrow down the list and figure out what had precedence over the other. Outwardly, he didn’t let on for a moment about his plans. He was afraid, and rightly so, that Illya would dismiss him and his carefully developed strategy.

The next obstacle was to get them both in town at the same time. It seemed as if The Fates were in conspiracy against him for this part of the plan, but eventually he knew it would happen. With their record, it was inevitable.

“I still say you had more than enough time to escape.” Illya limped out of Del Floria’s. There was nothing his partner hated more than to have his wings clipped by medical leave.

“If you hadn’t tripped over your own feet, I wouldn’t have had to go back for you.” Napoleon signaled for a taxi, his movements hindering by his taped ribs.

“I didn’t trip… on purpose.” The cab pulled up and both men checked the driver out before climbing in. “I still think a week’s leave is excessive.”

With any luck, Illya would never know it had been upon Napoleon’s recommendation. If he did find out, Napoleon would deal with the fall out.

“Listen, would you rather have a week off or desk work?” he asked as they slowly climbed inside.

“I’m not sure. Let me sleep for a day and then let you know.”

“I’ll do you one better. Sleep for two days and be ready by nine a.m. on Day Three.”

“What for?”

“I’m your partner, trust me.”

“Believe me, you’re the last person I’d trust.” But it was said with a smile.

                                                            *****

 

“I can’t believe this.” They stood on the Ellis Island viewing platform and looked back upon the skyline.

“This is what countless immigrants saw upon their arrival. Was it any wonder they thought of this place as one of opportunity?”

Illya slipped a quarter into the binoculars and adjusted them. “It looks totally different from here. Somehow, it seems more magical and less the daily insanity that it truly is.”

Napoleon looked back at the Iron Lady, her torch held high. “How’s your leg?”

“Fine, why?”

Napoleon pointed upward. “Bet the view from the torch would be something else.”

Illya tipped his head back and then slowly shook it. “Sadly, I don’t think it’s up to that much of a climb. It wouldn’t do to come back from medical leave in worse shape than we left.” He returned to the binoculars. “I can’t believe all that we saw today.”

“It’s what a typical tourist might see, but we’re not quite done yet.”

“We’ve done the Empire State and the Chrysler Buildings, St Patrick’s Cathedral, and the South Street Seaport, what’s left?” Illya walked over to a bench and sat - Napoleon’s cue that even the whirlwind of activity that was Illya was getting tired.

“I saved the best for last.” Napoleon held out two tickets. “We have orchestra seats for a Broadway show tonight and then dinner at Sardi’s afterwards.”

“What?” Illya took one of the tickets. “How did you get these? This is the hottest show in town.”

“I have my ways.” Napoleon checked his watch. “We just have enough time to get home and change.”

“Do we not have just a moment more?” Illya was still staring at the skyline. “I’d like to look for a bit longer.”

“Of course.”

Illya returned to the binoculars and slipped another coin into the slot. “Ah, there it is.”

“What are you looking at, partner?”

Illya looked back at him and grinned. “Home.”


End file.
